


Demons May Not Be Good, But They Are Good At Pining

by clockworkfall



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 08:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19422052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkfall/pseuds/clockworkfall
Summary: Crowley has been in love with Aziraphale for longer than he cares to admit, and it comes out far too soon for his liking.





	Demons May Not Be Good, But They Are Good At Pining

Crowley did not like how he felt towards that angel. Over the centuries, he had kept himself on such a tight leash, but that angel seemed to break down all his walls. No matter what he did, that angel got through to him. His smile that seemed to shine brighter than the sun, his eyes always so bright with joy, a gentle blue that Crowley couldn’t help admitting was his favourite colour - even as he only wore greys and blacks.  
No - he couldn’t let himself think like this. It would never work.  
He supposed that since he was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel it could count as sowing the seeds of evil, but he- he couldn’t do that to his angel. He couldn’t push Aziraphale to go so fast, especially into something he probably didn’t even want. Much less push him into something so against everything he stood for.  
He couldn’t hurt Aziraphale like that if he tried. He could never hurt Aziraphale at all.  
And he didn’t want to.  
But something had Crowley pacing beside his telephone anxiously enough that the plants were shaking, their pots rattling on the ground only adding to his anxiety.  
And that something was definitely not his feelings for Aziraphale or that he had done this so many times that the floor was a slightly paler shade.  
Done this thing where he let all his anxieties and worries get to him and think about calling the only person that could ease them and then get halfway through dialing - if he even got that far - before giving up. Aziraphale didn’t need his issues.  
Especially not after the mess that was the whole Armageddon affair. Even if the whole Armageddon affair had made everything locked up inside him so much more real.  
Aziraphale had just gotten back to his bookshop - he was probably anxiously making sure all of his books were in place, making sure they were all intact, caring for them like Crowley wished the angel would care for him.  
Fuck.  
Tonight was not going to end well. Not if Crowley couldn’t get a hold on himself.  
Which was something he had gotten worse at over the past week. Being that close to him - his self-control was slipping ever faster out of his grasp.  
He stopped pacing - maybe stopping motion would stop thinking.  
It didn’t. If anything, it made it so much worse. All the energy pent up inside him with nowhere to go - before he knew it he was out the door and in his Bentley, outside Aziraphale’s bookshop.  
This was so much worse than calling.  
Crowley ran one hand through his hair, drumming the steering wheel anxiously with the other. How had he even gotten here? Of course he knew the streets he had taken, he knew them better than he knew almost anything else. But how had he gone from another night pacing beside the phone to sitting outside the bookshop?  
“Crowley?” A knock sounded at the passenger window accompanied by the voice he had so longed to hear. He jerked, nearly hitting his head turning to see.  
Aziraphale.  
The angel’s eyes were wide with surprise, a small smile playing across his lips - oh Hell, that smile always ruined his control.  
“Is everything alright? You look like something’s gone wrong.”  
Crowley was paralyzed, too many thoughts racing through his head to make sense of. All he could do was slowly roll down the window, and croak out, “Can I come in?”  
Aziraphale’s smile widened, “Of course.”  
Crowley barely managed to get out of the car, clinging on to everything he could, which meant clinging to Aziraphale when he swooped in to help Crowley even get to the door. The angel gently placed a hand at the small of his back, guiding him forward into the shop as Crowley went into a state of shock.  
Electricity raced through him, his only thoughts of Aziraphale and oh fuck Aziraphale. His knees almost gave out beneath him, and he wasn’t quite sure he had kept a small gasp from escaping. He could feel his pulse everywhere in his body and before he could quite catch up with reality he was sat in an armchair across from Aziraphale, a warm cup of tea pressed into his hands.  
“Now I know you don’t necessarily like eating and drinking,” Aziraphale was saying when Crowley finally came back to his body, “But you look like you need something.”  
He looked down at the tea in his hands, not making eye contact, spluttering out “I- I, uh, see, I was thinking and uh y’know how thinking works and-”  
“Crowley.” He looked up, meeting Aziraphale’s strong yet so gentle gaze. “Whatever is troubling you, you can tell me.”  
“I love you.” He almost dropped the cup with the suddenness the words had fallen from his mouth.  
Aziraphale sat up a little straighter, smiling cheerily with eyes bright, “Well, I love you too, Crowley.”  
He’d lost control.  
“No - I love you. And I don’t mean it like something you say to a good friend, I mean it more than anything else I’ve ever meant,” He stood up, struggling for a moment with all the words he wanted to say before sitting back down, his voice running with a mind of its own, “I’ve loved you since you gave away your sword and I can’t stop and I tried - I tried for so long because I know, I know you don’t feel the same and I go too fast for you and you’re not comfortable with a lot of the things I do and I don’t know why - why I’m telling you all this or why I feel all this.” He held his head in his hands, mumbling down to the floor, his voice breaking, “I don’t know why I’ve lost control.”  
There was the soft rustling of clothes, and then Aziraphale was next to him, rubbing gentle circles into his back. “Crowley dear, when I said I loved you, I meant it. Truly.”  
Crowley slowly lifted his head, a small hopeful expression reserved for Aziraphale on his face as he met the angel’s eyes. “You really mean it?”  
Aziraphale smiled, moving his hand to cup Crowley’s head and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before meeting his eyes again. “Of course I do.”  
Crowley’s shoulders sagged with thousands of years worth of relief, and he let himself be pulled into the angel’s embrace, returning it within moments and not letting go.


End file.
